[He does as he's told, uncharacteristically quiet. He's exhausted, honestly, before they've even begun. A lifetime of being sarcastic and obnoxious even in the face of danger did not prepare him for this moment, for trying to actually be sincere, and it turns out sincerity is a lot more work than he'd been led to believe.
He squints at the chess game, having never played it himself. This whole place seemed almost foreign, too old fashioned in some ways to be real to him. It seems more like an old fashioned movie set than what he associates with a house. Then again, his life sounds like some soap opera with film noir thrown in for flavoring, so maybe it's fitting. His usual impulses to try and scan the room for details he can use to extrapolate about Charles' life comes into his head and he dismisses it out of hand. He hasn't ever made his made better by being paranoid. Most of what made it worse was out of his control, but trying to control it by being suspicious of people hadn't helped.
Not sure if he should sit in that one chair or just lean against the wall like he usually does, he stands, hands in his pockets, more than a little lost mentally.]
no subject
He squints at the chess game, having never played it himself. This whole place seemed almost foreign, too old fashioned in some ways to be real to him. It seems more like an old fashioned movie set than what he associates with a house. Then again, his life sounds like some soap opera with film noir thrown in for flavoring, so maybe it's fitting. His usual impulses to try and scan the room for details he can use to extrapolate about Charles' life comes into his head and he dismisses it out of hand. He hasn't ever made his made better by being paranoid. Most of what made it worse was out of his control, but trying to control it by being suspicious of people hadn't helped.
Not sure if he should sit in that one chair or just lean against the wall like he usually does, he stands, hands in his pockets, more than a little lost mentally.]
So. Where do I even start?